Isolated Incident
by sunshinetango
Summary: Ranma takes a break in the heat. Not so mad cap antics ensue. Inspired by Joseph Palmer's one shot Hot. I thought I could make it even dirtier. I think I might have succeeded.


_Isolated Incident_

For once in two years, the Tendou Dojou was miraculously quiet; there were no fiancées bursting through walls, windows, or ceilings causing numerous amounts of property damage and ordering Ranma to marry them; there were no rivals decreeing that Ranma should die or repent or cease some sort of sorcery-related activity; there were no loud arguments with or thrashings from Akane; and lastly, no one was sobbing, weaseling money out of innocent people, or even cleaning. Yes, for once in two years, the Tendou Dojou could relax its support beams and just rest for a bit.

There was any number of reasons for the reprieve. For all Ranma knew it could have been that the gods had finally decided to be relatively merciful and grant him a few moments of peace, or that the world had ended outside the Tendou Dojou.

Frankly, he was not dwelling on it much; he just wanted to enjoy summer break, free from school and "marital" responsibilities. He sighed, silently thanking whatever deities happened to be on his side that day, and allowed his muscles and guard to lax as he lay on the deck, a bottle of ice water on one side of him, and a small electric fan on the other side of him. The fan was busy cooling his bare chest and ruffling the light material of his swimming trunks as he basked on the porch, enjoying the feeling of sweat cooling against his skin and thanking _Juusenkyo_ for not including _cold_ _sweat_ on its list of "Curse-Inducing Liquids."

A slurping noise attracted his attention and he lazily turned his head to watch Akane come out of the kitchen. In one of her deceptively dainty, cinder-block-smashing hands was a bright red Popsicle that she was presently sucking liberally on. Her lips were stained a vibrant red color, and she had to repeatedly lick up the juice that melted off the Popsicle and onto her hand. It was a rather lovely sight to watch, though Ranma wasn't about to admit it to anyone, let alone _himself_.

She seemed to feel his eyes on her, for she looked intently at him and pulled the icy treat from her mouth with a "pop" noise. Ranma stared at her and she stared right back at him, neither one of their gazes wavering from the other's eyes.

Akane smiled after a few moments, the slight movement of her lips sending little shockwaves of _something_ through every nerve of his body. A small shiver went through him as her tongue darted out and licked a stray droplet of red juice from her thumb, and as he watched her, she took a prim seat near him. Her slender, toned body blocked half of the cooling air from the fan as she sat Indian-style next to his head, but he didn't really mind.

The gentle, soothing silence continued, interrupted occasionally by the tiniest noise from Akane's lips and tongue caressing and coaxing juice from her treat. Ranma watched the action of her mouth for a _long_, _long_ time, guiltily wondering various things that made it so not even the fan could dry the sweat from his warm body.

In order to prevent dehydration from excessive sweating, Ranma let his eyes drift over her lithe form. He didn't know why doing that would help, but his brain insisted it was the best plan he'd ever had.

His eyes drifted down and drank in the wonderfully and generously crop top which exposed the taught flesh of her toned stomach. The fan ruffled the edge of it, and he could see the edge of her white brassiere from his position on the floor. His eyes traveled lower and focused for a moment on her naval before innocently inspecting the cutoff jean shorts; her long, lean thighs, browned to a light caramel color from the summer sun, caught his attention for a while, and he watched them flex briefly as she shifted her position so that she sat more comfortably. The juncture of her thighs caught and held his attention for longer than he'd like to admit, and he avoided it with minimal success.

Akane made a sighing noise and his eyes rolled up in his head to gaze, again, on her face. She was smiling enigmatically at the yard, sucking at her frozen treat, her eyes half-lidded in contentment. Ranma blinked some sweat from his eyelashes; the Popsicle looked _awfully_ cold and sweet and his mouth began to water as he thought of what flavor it could possibly be. On an uncontainable impulse Ranma sat up and licked his lips, staring at Akane's snack purposefully. Akane's mouth stopped nursing the Popsicle and she looked down at him, still smiling. After a few moments, she proffered her snack to him with a small shrug.

Ranma stared at it for a moment, blushing for a number of reasons. One droplet of juice slipped off the end of the treat and landed with a tiny, microscopic splash on his hand. He lifted up the hand and licked off the sweet liquid; cherry flavor.

Ranma's eyes moved to Akane's lips; her mouth would taste like cherries, and her tongue would be just heating up after licking the Popsicle, but her lips – her lips would still be cold, icy against his, soft and silky as they warmed against his skin.

Ranma shivered and licked his lips again, wondering just how much of that Popsicle she could—

"Don't you want it?" her impatient question startled Ranma from his little castle in the sky, and he felt his traitorous facial capillaries open to their full capacity, producing a gargantuan blush that was enough to cause his forehead to sweat profusely. The question hit really, _really_, close to a certain area of his anatomy, and he had to all but physically force an answer from his throat. "Uh… yeah, definitely, thanks." Ranma took the treat, his fingers brushing hers. He sucked on it slowly, still blushing furiously as he stared at her over the top of his hand which held the stick. He realized that they were indirectly kissing, and wondered if she was thinking the same thing.


End file.
